Scorching hot temperatures set in across Connecticut the week of July 11, 1936, during one of the hottest summers on record. William Heller, a local farmer living on Silver Hill Road, decided to bathe in the cool waters of Bally Wall Brook. This freshwater stream cut across his 38-acre parcel north of the Aspetuck Reservoir. You might be shocked to read that he was arrested. Now the details of how he was spotted and taken into custody are unfortunately not preserved, but in accordance with Connecticut State Statute 2542; “any person who shall bathe in any reservoir from which the inhabitants of any town, city or borough are supplied with water, or in any lake, pond or stream tributary to such reservoir, shall be subject to fine, imprisonment, or both.”
Heller was incensed that he could not enjoy the waters of his own property on a hot summer day. He argued that his arrest was not a valid exercise of the State’s police power and was unconstitutional. He took the matter all the way to the State Supreme Court. In 1938, the judicial body ultimately found that the statute was not unreasonable and that the protection of the water supply feeding into the Aspetuck Reservoir superseded his private interest in favor of the public welfare. This story made national news and appeared in newspapers across the country, describing how this Connecticut farmer’s conviction was upheld. And while many of the news articles conveyed a certain amount of sympathy for Heller’s plight, they conceded that upstream folks just can’t do whatever they want for fear of damaging others. Several articles quipped that Mr. Heller and those living upstream were free to fill up their bathtubs as much as they pleased!
Lost in the history of Easton are often the small freedoms that residents like Heller gave up when the Bridgeport Hydraulic Company created the reservoirs and watershed. Now, few of us today plan to jump into a wetland stream for a bath. Still, there is a significant difference between bathing in a brook or a bathtub that bears pointing out. The wastewater from a bathtub drains into a type of disposal system. These structures filter the graywater through soil absorption, preventing harmful contaminants from reaching surface and groundwater sources that feed into the reservoirs.
The problem with these systems in the late 1930s was that there was little certainty that they functioned properly. Before 1940, the primary means by which rural homeowners disposed of wastewater was cess pits. These were simply holes in the ground, often lined with stones, where household sewage collected. Water would seep through the soil and stone walls, leaving behind any solid waste to decompose or to be periodically removed. By the 1940s, septic tanks were more commonly used, providing an increased measure of hygiene. A septic tank holds wastewater long enough for solids to settle and be partially broken down by bacteria before the liquid sewage flows into a drain field, where it undergoes further treatment by the soil. These systems were not well understood by the general population, however, and state and local sanitarian officials made efforts to educate homeowners on the dos and don’ts of septic maintenance. Easton’s own health official, Dr. William Coon, repeatedly called for “ordinances” and “measures” to help with some problems regarding drainage, sewage disposal, and water supply that were worsened by the influx of new residents seeking homes in town. This crisis occurred despite the town’s establishing Chapter 242 of the State’s Public Acts on July 16, 1927, in order to establish a zoning commission, districts and regulations. Year after year, from 1936 to 1940, Dr. Coon called upon the town leaders to heed his warnings:
In previous reports, I have directed your attention to the need for the sanitary supervision of new buildings erected in this community. At this time, any such supervision is entirely lacking, for we as a community have made no provision for any such protection. There are no regulations requiring the integrity of any building erected in the town; there is nothing to provide in what manner electric wiring or fixtures shall be installed, nor is there any provision for the installation of plumbing or the disposal of sewage material.
Instances of septic tanks being installed inaccurately, resulting in system failures and overflow, were not uncommon at the time. It was noted in state news reports that the location of septic tanks was being left to the judgment of builders, regardless of the distance or relation to property wells. Added factors such as elevation and slope of the terrain, along with the character of the soil, also needed to be factored into placement. In particular, these reports note that if the land is composed of heavy clay or what was referred to as hardpan, it is difficult to obtain proper drainage for a septic tank. It was publicly recommended that wastewater systems should be constructed in accordance with guidelines set by the state health department and that “the rural building lot ought to be larger” if ground features present challenges for septic tanks and wells.
So when Easton’s leadership decided to address Dr. Coon’s recommendations in 1941 by formally setting out zoning regulations, I would argue that their purposeful decision to divide the town into two distinct residential zones was very much informed by the type of water sources available, the geological limitations of the town’s landscape, the watershed protections on more that 70% of the land and the agricultural uses still prevalent at the time.
To this day, Easton remains zoned solely for residential use, with only a handful of grandfathered, nonconforming parcels. Our entire town relies on septic systems for wastewater management, and there is no public sewer available. The two zones created in 1941 remain in existence today. They include Zone RA and RB. RA, now corresponding with the current R-1 in Lower Easton, begins at the Fairfield town line and ends just beyond Flat Rock Road and Beers Road as a northern boundary. In this zone, the minimum lot size initially began at 0.91 acres. It is important to note that this zone is distinct from all other areas in our town because it does not rely on well water. Almost all of the houses are connected to water lines set out by the Bridgeport Hydraulic Company, supplying filtered and chemically treated water from the reservoirs. Any septic challenges due to soil or terrain do not pose a threat to the potable water provided. And while powerful politicians and wealthy landowners were likely a strong force in the development of this housing stock, the primary reason these building lots exist in their current density is because of their public water supply.
Furthermore, although this lower R-1 region is currently not included in our watershed, it was previously, and Samuel Senior, then President of the Bridgeport Hydraulic Company, likely had concerns about pollution runoff. Under his leadership, multiple safety checks were instituted. Each source pipe leading out of Easton was furnished with chemical equipment that treated its water as it passed through, destroying harmful bacteria. Chemists were employed to test the endpoint water and make daily reports on its condition and the water company published articles and small booklets for the public highlighting these practices. For further measure, Senior enacted a comprehensive inspection program for all residential lots in Easton’s watershed. At the time, this included both zone districts and property lots were cataloged, mapped, inspected, and visited every year.
Bridgeport Hydraulic Company sent inspectors annually between mid-March and mid-July, with a particular focus on the spring season, when the water table is at its highest point. They would also examine any run-off flowing into the streams and tributaries that crossed the land. These spot checks helped detect failing systems where leachates rise to the surface and can be detected visually. Each property had a card and a corresponding number on the company’s watershed map to help guide the process. Often, the design and location of septic systems would be drawn out on the back of these cards. Over the years, the company’s inspectors are said to have walked every inch of the watershed multiple times, looking for evidence of dumping as well as septic contamination. Testing at the mouth of feeder streams would provide clues, and they would follow the trail back to its source. Water samples were analyzed at company labs to determine the type of contamination. Sometimes it was the waste from farm animals, improperly stored pesticides, or even leaking oil tanks.
Such cautious stewardship was certainly time consuming and expensive. Was it necessary? I doubt it would have been done if it wasn’t. This water company oversight, combined with the national attention of the Heller court case, likely led to a greater awareness of water quality in the Easton community, more so than in neighboring towns that were not subjected to this scrutiny.
While the prevailing view today is that Easton’s 3-acre zoning was a form of economic exclusionary practice and a means of merely preserving rural character, there is no specific evidence to support this reasoning in our town’s archive. Practical and quantifiable concerns in this RB/R-3 Zone, however, did warrant a larger lot size to accommodate wells and septic systems on parcels with rocky terrain, ledge outcroppings, hydrophilic soils, and high groundwater.
Many of these lots abut or contain wetlands that further reduced buildable area. The suggestion that 2 acres would have been enough to accommodate these features, or that Easton’s 3-acre zoning was “an arbitrary decision,” fails to consider the numerous farms in the northern part of town that existed at this time. During the Great Depression, while many rural areas struggled with declining crop prices and widespread poverty, farming in Easton thrived due to a strong local market demand for fresh produce. Unlike regions dependent on distant or export markets, Easton benefited from its proximity to urban centers, allowing farmers to sell directly to consumers. This demand intensified with the onset of World War II, as food production became a national priority. Easton’s farms played a crucial role in supplying fruits, vegetables, and dairy to meet both civilian and military needs, helping to sustain the local agricultural economy during a time of widespread hardship. Examination of the tax rolls of Easton and agrarian census data indicates that between 1930 and 1940, there was a slight decrease in the number of individual farm properties. Still, the overall number of acres dedicated to agriculture increased. Livestock alone increased 50% over this time period, so that in 1940, there were 7,604 cattle in town and only 1,262 people!
This type of primary source study is essential because it paints a more complete picture of the pressures on Easton’s land and water. Livestock in particular present several added stresses for water safety as they require more space away from sensitive waterways and leaching fields. Additional acreage could also help prevent well water contamination from waste and soil compaction that negatively affects ground permeability.
And coincidentally, at this time, the United States government considered a parcel of land a farm if it had agricultural operations and was three acres or more in size. So, it seems likely to me that Easton’s specific 3-acre zoning was related to its farm population, and as a side note, that 3-acre minimum was needed to qualify for contemporary federal agricultural benefit programs. This acreage-based minimum would be removed decades later. Still, its persistence here in Easton as part of our zoning regulations speaks to our strong agrarian legacy. Many pro-housing activists writing about zoning today, particularly those who question large minimum lot sizes, would do well to consider the historic records of individual towns. And, as a Right to Farm community today, Easton should recognize the heritage of its zoning as we continue to protect and maintain our dwindling farm land.
While I value my colleague Bruce Nelson’s effort to engage the public in a meaningful conversation through his recent article, “Easton’s Three Acre Zoning and Protecting the Watershed,” I would like to address some aspects of his piece that could benefit from additional context. Regardless of whether Aquarion owns a significant portion of Easton’s watershed land, the undeniable truth is that the town of Easton comprises more than 70% of watershed. This fact has been the case since the early 20th century. Our town’s Plan of Conservation and Development clearly states Easton is committed to watershed protection for those who depend on the reservoirs. This obligation extends to protecting ground and surface waters that feed into the private wells of our local residents. Four percent of this town’s roughly 28 square miles is covered with surface water, and up to 10% of our land is composed of wetlands and water courses, which includes “streams, brooks, ponds, marshes, swamps, bogs, and any other body of water either natural or man-made, vernal or intermediate-on public or private land.”
While many Connecticut municipalities do share some of these same characteristics, Easton is its own unique eco-landscape; an amalgam of man-made reservoirs and wetlands that has long been appreciated by its residents. Records from the Garden Club in the 1940s and 1950s provide early evidence of our town’s interest in conserving the natural environment and underscore the need for preservation efforts. In a 1948 referendum, the townspeople voted down a proposal to reduce the acreage of both zones that would have instituted 2-acre zoning for the majority of the town. It failed by an overwhelming vote of 227 to 47. In 1955, Easton representatives at the State capital advocated for “home rule” for their community in the face of state zoning mandates. They argued that local communities should be left to handle their zoning in the way they deemed best. Sounds familiar doesn’t it? That was 70 years ago-long before the currently proposed and controversial HB5002!
First selectman, Franklin Hubbell, (1961-65) who served as the land manager for Bridgeport Hydraulic Company, was committed to maintaining Easton’s zoning and educating future generations about how its wetlands support the biodiversity that was rapidly being lost elsewhere in our state. Considering some of these examples, I find the current arguments that frame the environmental and water safety concerns of the 1960s and 1970s as a sudden political ploy to be unconvincing. These sorts of statements are reductive and ignore the genuine public health and ecological challenges that drove state reforms during this period. By the 1960’s water quality conditions were so poor in our state that public outcry demanded government action. In 1965, Governor Dempsey appointed a Clean Water Task Force that resulted in the 1967 Clean Water Bill ushering in the beginnings of modern pollution control.
As our state began to remediate its waterways and greater awareness developed in the late 1960s and early 1970s, Easton began to discover that it was not immune to pollution. Areas of contamination were emerging within its own landscape. As early as 1971, studies revealed that waste had permeated the Mill River water from failing residential septic systems, and wells and ponds were being polluted by dumping and animal waste. The response of residents was resoundingly in support of the local environment. In 1972, Citizens for Easton was founded to educate residents and mobilize community action in favor of our natural resources and for the maintenance of our zoning rules to limit development.
Eastoner’s had concerns for decades regarding the adverse effects of unchecked development in surrounding Fairfield County. And developers have looked to Easton as a new frontier, proposing condominium complexes, strip malls, and corporate headquarters-but unlike the early 20th century, when residents had little choice but to accept the eminent domain of the water company, today’s community is determined to preserve the positive legacy of that era. They argue that our protective zoning is not arbitrary but essential for the public welfare in an environment where even small-scale disturbances can have disproportionate impacts.
I personally feel that our legacy zoning aligns our development potential with what the land can realistically and safely support. Recent changes allowing for smaller lot sizes in environmentally sensitive sites, such as Saddle Ridge, have deeply discouraged neighboring homeowners on 3-acre lots, full disclosure, which includes myself. Will the proposed dynamite blasting for foundations elevate dangerous elements in our ground water? Will the 26 proposed densely packed lots, ranging in size from 0.95 acres to 2.33 acres, compromise area water quality? Convincing documentation to the contrary has yet to be shared with me.
Changes may seem inevitable in the face of current state mandates, but if history teaches anything about Easton residents, we are an independently minded community that has embraced environmental values well before they were codified into law. Our resilience amid today’s political and developmental pressures may ultimately prove critical and timely, as the rising awareness of PFAS contamination is driving changes in national water safety standards and placing greater responsibility on small communities to safeguard their drinking water. As new federal regulations tighten limits and require more testing, towns like Easton, reliant on private wells and septic systems, must adapt quickly—often without the resources of larger municipalities or water companies.
I recently described the many challenges we face in preserving Easton’s environment in conversation with historian Stuart Reeve, one of the authors of our town’s Cultural Resource Survey. I have to quote his response: “Damn it, Elizabeth! Tell’em to exercise their governance!” So, I pass this along to you. Your vote is your voice. This is not about partisanship or a specific candidate or campaign. Preservation, for both parties, must be more than a political slogan. It should represent a lasting commitment to protecting clean water and making land-use decisions that safeguard the environmental health of our watershed community for generations to come.
Just some of the wildlife dependent on clean water and a healthy ecosystem along Silver Hill Road next to Saddle Ridge.
